Behind the Spotlight
by Delores Wilson
Summary: Lily was always the popular one, but one happened to the one always watching from the shadows? Ever disapproving of her talented sister, Petunia Dursley needs to unlock the past that she tried so hard to hide...
1. Troubled roots

Lily was always the favourite, ever since we were little girls. I suppose it shouldn't have come as a surprise when she got selected to a special school. To be honest, that wasn't the part that had surprised me. A magical school, though? Admittedly, as a child, I used to be curious about whether magic did really exist. I blocked these stupid ideas out, because I knew, like all my other dreams there was no chance of them being true. Not for me, anyway! So one day, in the middle of the summer, I think it was July or August, this strange letter arrived in the post. It had no stamp, but I assumed it was hand delivered. Unsuspectingly I shuffled along the thick carpeted corridor in my fluffy slippers to the kitchen where my father was waiting for me to get the post. 'Ah, Petunia,' he said breaking into a smile. 'The post! Anything for me?' 'Actually there's just this one big package...' I turned it over to see who it was for. 'For Lily, apparently.' Lily squealed and rushed to open it. I thought she was expecting something from one of her many boyfriends – Ok, she was ten, but that never stopped her, so she informed me anyway. She ripped open the paper, and I helplessly watched her change all of our lives forever. 'Hogwarts!?' she exclaimed, confused. Reading the letter out loud, it revealed that she had been discovered as gifted (what a surprise) and was being offered a place at an academy of Magic. At first I laughed and thought it was a joke, but my parents looked very serious, and of course very proud. 'Hogwarts...' my father breathed. 'Well Lily, you must be more special than we thought you were. My great-grandfather told me all about that school – well through his journal. It's a very real place, don't get me wrong! We'll have to find out more about it immediately!' She giggled happily and sprang onto my father's lap, as my mother came over and began making a fuss about her 'wonderful talented daughter.' I sat and watched the family picture, left out of it. Poor, unsuccessful Petunia. Nothing ever happens to her. And that was how my life changed. Every summer Lily would come home, telling us about all the exciting things she did, while I was left to go to the local girls' school. Even her social life was better than mine, at what I came to call the 'school of freaks'. And of course I couldn't tell anyone where she was – I had to pretend she had a scholarship to go to an expensive boarding school in the country somewhere. It was all right with me- I had assumed I would at last get the attention of my parents, who had always made a fuss of my superior sister. No such luck – they were ever the doting parents to her. They even bought her an owl to send them letters; though these rarely came of course. 'Oh well, at least I can try and live a normal life I suppose,' I thought miserably.  
  
Time flew by, and before I knew it I was looking at universities. My sister had left the seventh year at Hogwarts a few years before of course, along with her boyfriend James. Now, I know that he's my sister's boyfriend, but I could' help but think that his scruffy hair, wicked sense of humour and amazing magic capabilities were... well they were kind of sexy I suppose. And Lily had achieved some of the best grades Hogwarts had ever seen – surprise, surprise. A vast quantity of OWLS and NEWTS (the wizarding world's answer to GCSEs and A level I was told), all excellent grades. The world was open to her. I, meanwhile, had managed to get an acceptance to Oxford, for all of the hard work I had managed during my A levels. My parents barely noticed. I remember lying on my bed sobbing hard looking at this form telling me of all the wonderful opportunities I had because I was special. Yeah right I was special! I wasn't Lily, so I wasn't good enough. I would have tried to quit everything then – just run away from it all. But I had no way; there's no escape from being the untalented little sister.  
  
Lily became an Auror in the end, along with James. They had to endure terrible training for it, but of course they sailed through with flying colours. They were superior in the wizarding world, fighting evil, so I was told. Lily never said much about it in case there were spies around. Personally, I think she wanted me to stay out of her world; out of the bubble she had made herself where everyone worshipped the ground she walked upon. Me? Well I turned down my place at Oxford – how could I face going there where everyone else was so bright, and so supported at home? I decided to go to a smaller university on the coast. I did well, and that's where I met Vernon. OK, he wasn't James (who, I confess I fell a little bit in love with), but he was kind and very athletic. He was also the first person who met my sister and found me special.  
  
Meanwhile life in Lily-land was just peachy. She had just got married to James in a beautiful church, filled with white, pink and blue flowers. And her dress! Oh, even though I have spent my entire life being jealous of her, I couldn't help but be proud to be her sister. Similar blood runs in our veins, and if she can be so happy, so radiant, so beautiful... Well there was surely hope for me as yet! If only my mother could have seen her on that day. She passed away just after I went to university. She was killed in a freak accident in a supermarket near our home. Lily wasn't shocked by the news, but was very upset. Though slightly curious about this, I couldn't cope with the grief, so I have suppressed it, the way I let everything lie in the very pits of my being, waiting to strike out in rage one day.  
  
Two years after that I too got married. Vernon and I were wed in a small church near Brighton in the winter of 1985. Not long afterwards I got pregnant, and I was overjoyed! Lily of course stole my thunder and admitted that she too was pregnant, and had been for a little while. She had to step aside with her work as an Auror as she became more and more pregnant, and James had to move into a smaller job linked to a man called Dumbledore. I of course, was oblivious to this. I had no idea about what they were supposed to be fighting. Their son, who they called Harry, was born just before I gave birth to our beautiful son Dudley.  
  
Then... I lost contact with my sister, as did my parents. She had to go into hiding away from some sort of evil genius. I couldn't help but think it was like some poor cartoon. This was until about 14 years ago. I remember my husband collapsing into his chair in front of the news after struggling with Dudley. Oh he was a restless one, he never seemed to want to be on his own. Well, I could understand that. Oh this boy was going to get all the love a child could hope for, I could depend on that. The news was strange that night. An outburst of owls, strange weather, strangely dressed people rejoicing in the streets. He asked if they were any of my 'sisters people'. I shuddered – I hadn't talked about Lily any more. Her existence had been constant torment to me. I never told anyone the things she said to me, not even Vernon. How could he understand the bitchy comments of 8 year old girls? I sighed to myself, as he became more absorbed in the news. Him mentioning her had stirred up old suppressed feelings. I never knew if she had meant things she said to me when we were children. She'd never made an effort to say 'Sorry Petunia, I was only kidding when I repetitively told you that you were worthless'. As I was about to discover, I would never know. 


	2. The shock of a lifetime

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, but I do own the plotline that you don't recognise.  
  
Please review with your suggestions, so I can work out what you do and don't like! Thanks. (sorry that this one is shorter, bear with me! It will get better I promise...)  
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It was terrifying the next morning. I got up as usual to go and fetch the paper and milk from our clean doormat at Privet Drive. Ah... my home. They say an Englishman's home is his castle, and I am a firm believer of this. I never saw myself as a little house wife, especially as a rebellious teenager in the 70s! That all changed, when I realised I could never be like as Lily, never happy, never successful; a failure at everything I tried. If I could make Vernon happy, then he would love me and we could be happy. So I suppose my personality, and my whole perspective changed. I didn't care about freedom, my own happiness or education, or the welfare of significant minorities. 'My sister is a minority, so I don't care anymore,' I told myself angrily. I persuaded myself to hate everything that was abnormal, and lead a trouble-free life. It had worked fine for me for the past few years, why try to change now? Back to that fateful day, I opened the door and there was a basket on the doormat. Peering inside, I noticed it contained a baby and a note. 'Vernon...' I gasped, then repeated it louder and more panicky. 'Vernon! Quick!' I heard him jump up knocking a chair over, causing Dudley to cry. My baby! He would have to wait; just this once. Oh how I would live to regret that one decision. 'Petunia! We don't want the neighbours to see!' We rushed the baby back into the kitchen, just as I found my Dinky-Diddums choking on his breakfast. His face had turned blue, and he was spluttering, running himself into a frenzy. In a panic I managed to free him from his suffering, and nurse him against me. 'It's OK Duddles, I'm here now,' I soothed nervously, as his breathing grew more regular, and his face became less red. Looking up at Vernon, then shooting evils at the bundle, I asked 'What will we do with it?' I knew I would have to resent the child for what he did to me that day. Vernon finished reading the note and looked up at me. 'This is Harry, Petunia. Your sister and James...' he paused as I waited with bated breath. 'They're dead Petunia.' I felt a wash of emptiness and pointlessness sweep over me. The one time I would let this get to me. I thrust Dudley into his father's arms and pressed a tissue to my face as I ran out of the room. Dead? The true love of my life, and my own sister. Dead? 


	3. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

I may re-write this chapter because I'm not too sure about it... But then I suppose it can't all be tense, you have to get to know some of the background EVENTUALLY... please review and let me know what you think, much appreciated!  
  
I don't own the characters and stuff, I just own my weird little 'Petunia's POV' plot... You get the idea  
  
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Vernon had taken Dudley to the nearest park in his push chair so that they could feed the ducks together. This was a fairly common occurrence as Petunia would not allow food past its best to be in the house. 'I had better stayed here,' sighed Petunia, sounding bitter, as she referred to Harry's peaceful broken cot in the corner of the room. Vernon nodded – it would be scandalous to take him out on a trip, and he supposed they couldn't leave him completely alone. So Petunia had been left alone with her little nephew. When she had heard the door slam, she had careful counted to fifteen then hastily moved to the side of his cot to just watch him sleep. In a count of ten, Vernon could return having forgotten something. By fifteen, he had always got to the end of the road and gone out of sight. Petunia leaned closer and rocked the cradle gently, causing Harry to stir, and turn over in his sleep, not yet parted from his strange dreams. She sighed as she watched him. Such a beautiful baby... Even though he did have that hair that always stuck up awkwardly. She chuckled and brushed it out of his face, before hesitantly planting a kiss on his forehead over the unsightly scare and rushing from the room, in disbelief of what she had done. It was the same every time she was alone with him. She couldn't let herself love him – he was a part of Lily. But she had to love him; he was a part of James too.  
  
* * * * *  
  
'They're dead,' Petunia told herself steadily. 'You don't have to think about them any more.' She glanced back to the cot. The baby roused in his sleep once again, making little hiccupping noises. 'Strange how fate works Petunia.' A voice from the long ago awakened in her mind. It was strange how things had turned out – Lily's talent had been the death of her. Petunia shuddered. A thought that hadn't crossed her mind before became suddenly apparent – it could have been her. The untalented little sister survived because she was plain. She could sink into the background, blending with the shadows she had lived in for her whole life. Perhaps that was what he had meant when he mused on Petunia's situation, but she couldn't help but wonder if things ran deeper than her imagination ever could...  
  
Suddenly she snapped out of her dream as she heard the keys in the lock. Panicking that Vernon and Dudley would see her caring for Harry, she reached for a feather duster from the windowsill, stood from the chair and tried to pick up her coffee cup from the desk all at once. Unfortunately this attempt was unsuccessful and the cup slipped from her grasp onto the floor shattering loudly, causing Petunia to start. Her foot became caught up in the vacuum cord and she crashed down to the floor, just as the front door groaned open in the hall. Dudley's buggy creaked loudly as Harry woke up and began breathing in sharply behind her in his cot. 'Oh no,' Petunia thought, 'not now.' Harry opened his mouth and began to wail. It was as if the walls were collapsing in on her brain. Petunia cried out slightly, covering her head with her arms as she sat amongst the broken remnants of Vernon's favourite mug. She could hear Lily screaming and a cold, cruel laugh rising up in her head, just as the bedroom door swung open, and Vernon's head appeared wearing an expression of shock and disgust ...  
  
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I expect we're going to be due a flashback at some point soon. What has been going on in Petunia's past? Isn't this all bizarre? Thank you to my reviewers so far, I'll try and update every now and then, but as you may be aware I'm not the most conventional of story writers. I've written some of the middle! But not chapter 4 as yet... 


	4. Subsequent to Loss

I'm getting bored of doing the whole disclaimer thing... You get the idea, I didn't come up with the characters and spells and Hogwarts and so on, just Petunia's POV.  
  
Let me know what you think... Ideas are welcome and praise is even MORE welcome. Ha ha, seriously though it would be handy to know what people want and if anyone is reading this at all.  
  
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'What are you doing in here Petunia?' Vernon's voice sounded steady, but his eyes flashed with anger. 'Err... nothing... just cleaning, you know.' Petunia coughed slightly nervously, then stood up smoothing her skirt, holding Vernon's gaze as best as she could. 'Well, if that's all you were doing...' Vernon trailed off, the distinct panic now removed from his voice. There was an awkward silence, interrupted only by the snuffles of a once again sleeping Harry. 'I guess I'd better get some dinner together,' pondered Petunia out loud. 'Yes, a good idea,' agreed Vernon quickly, smoothing his hair down nervously as he left to room for the lounge and the TV set. As the music intro for the evening news echoed into the kitchen, Petunia began loudly chopping carrots. She felt tears rise up into her throat for about the nineteenth time that day. She put on the oven, and switched on the blender, as she had done ever night since she heard about James and Lily. It covered her sobs enough for Vernon to not hear them. She sorted herself out, and took a swig of the gin bottle that she kept amongst the cleaning bottles. Feeling much calmed down, she began to mix Dudley's baby formula, and stir the gravy for her beloved husband's dinner.  
* * * * * A few weeks later, Petunia was sitting beside Harry's crib once more, Vernon and baby Dudley playing in the park. It had become a routine; every Saturday afternoon Vernon and Dudley would spend time doing 'Father Son' activities. Admittedly, it was usually going to see the ducks and get rid of any stale food Petunia wanted out of the house, but they always seemed to come back laughing together. Petunia would stay at home, her excuse cleaning the house and minding the baby, but usually just sitting and watching him sleep. She liked to think about James and Lily. She was no longer upset, and would not cry about them. She couldn't see anything wrong with loving a memory; it couldn't come back and hurt her. Oh how wrong she was. She was startled from her thoughts by a tapping on the window behind her. She was even more bewildered to see a large tawny owl patiently sitting on the windowsill watching her through the glass. It seemed to have an air of importance, and a pleasant expression. 'But that's absurd,' Petunia told herself as she walked over to unfasten the catch, 'how can a bird have an air, or an expression?' The window now open, Petunia leaned out to face the creature. 'What do you want?' she asked, unsure about expecting a reply. The bird, of course, didn't say anything. It merely stuck a leg out to her, to reveal a piece of parchment tied to it, with an 'H' stamp on the seal. 'No...' breathed Petunia quietly. 'It can't be...' Taking the letter and thanking the now retreating bird, she pulled the window shut and tore off the wax. Unravelling the parchment, her eyes drank the words in, as if dehydrated. 'Petunia, I know that you have been expecting something like this from me. If you haven't, well I didn't think that a girl like you would be so naïve. I also know that Lily's death was a surprise to you, Petunia. Had it been four or five years ago... I know that you were expecting the letter any and every day; that would be undeniable. However, I have taken it upon myself to be the bearer of news, as I was before. Petunia, it is important that you stay true to yourself. I cannot say why in too much detail, as this could be interfered with despite my careful measures. Evil is not dead, Petunia. Lastly, and this is, I promise, my last for a while. Harry must stay with you; if not for the whole time, then at least once a year. Magic is strong in blood, and he must be saved from the falls that await him; the prophesy must favour good, Petunia. I do not expect you to understand, just remain obedient to me.' It was not signed, but she knew who the letter was from. Only he could have timed it so well that Vernon would not be in. It was still very mysterious – why would anyone want to interrupt a letter to plain old Petunia Dursley? It was all very tiring for her brain. Harry turned over in his sleep, and she turned to watch him once more. His face was unmistakeably troubled. She longed to rescue him from his tortured dreams. 'He'll grow out of them,' she convinced herself. After all, Lily and James died in a car crash, that's how he got the scar. She looked at the scar more closely. 'Such a curious thing, that he should have survived,' she thought. These thoughts were startling her – why shouldn't he have lived? Of course, as a muggle, Petunia had not quite gathered how important the boy was – to the history of magic, to the people of his world, and... in a partially unrelated way, important to her. 


	5. The Letters from the Past

_Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,  
__I am writing to you concerning the new addition to your family; your nephew Harry Potter. I most sincerely apologise for any inconvenience caused, but am glad to see that all appears well.  
__As you know, Harry coming to you was the result of a terrifying attack on Lily and James Potter. It was a miracle that the boy survived, and he will be famous in the wizarding world. Naturally, he should be brought up in a happy family atmosphere, regardless that you are non-wizarding folk. I assume that you will provide sufficiently for him; we will do our best not to interfere in your home, though Harry will be under observation from time to time, to assure that he is still safe.  
__I trust that you will honour your sister's memory, and treat Harry like he is your own._

_Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall_

Her hands trembling slightly, Petunia placed the parchment and her silver letter opener on the coffee table with a dull thud. **Their** kind would be watching her house… it was more than she could bear.  
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she lifted a second envelope and cut it open, as she had with the other. This one did not contain parchment, but a letter with a familiar header at the top. 'This is all I need…' she sighed, reading it through. Her school was having its fifteen year reunion… All the people she had known at the age of sixteen would be there. How often did they have to have these events? The ten year one wasn't so long ago, and still they dragged her back; her past could never rest in piece. 'Or pieces,' she thought miserably, remembering how her world had slowly fallen apart during her time there; her O level results discarded next to Lily's OWL and NEWT certificates.  
She sighed and got up, busying herself by clearing the kitchen. Her husband looked up from his newspaper and greeted her cheerfully.  
'I found some of yesterday's post, dear, it must have been a late delivery,' she said, making conversation in reply.  
'Anything interesting? I did wonder why you were taking so long to come through!'  
'There was an invitation to another reunion at my school,' she said quietly, turning back towards the door.  
She heard Vernon rise and follow her. 'Well it will be nice to see all of your old friends again, won't it?'  
Petunia merely raised her eyebrows, and then sighed with disbelief and defeat. 'You don't understand, do you?' Her husband's blank face was enough of a reply for her to continue, 'It's stupid, whenever I see all the people from my past... I want to prove that I'm not how they remember me.'  
'Not ho-?'  
'I want to be cool, OK?' Petunia felt her voice waver as she spoke. 'It sounds ridiculous, but I was a complete waste of space my whole life and I want to prove that I have moved on and become something.'  
'But you have mo-'  
'-and people from my past turning up to criticize me and stir up troubles, it's not f-'  
'Petunia, I-'  
'It's not fair Vernon, and I won't have it, I won't have it any more!' Surprised at how quickly she had become upset, her hysterical cries rang dully in the neat living room of number four Privet Drive. It seemed strange to think that so much had already happened under that roof.  
Dudley turned over in his sleep, causing the pram to groan and creak ominously. Petunia instinctively flicked her eyes over him, before raising her hands to her head, and pressing her fingers to the temples.  
'Petunia…' Vernon said gently, touching her arm. She raised her head to look at him, her wide eyes brimming with tears. 'Is this about your reunion, sweetheart?'  
Petunia sighed and looked to the floor. 'It's not just that…' she trailed off and stubbornly stared at the carpet. Vernon had learned from experience not to question his wife when she was on the brink of explaining, so sat down next to her on the sofa and waited for her to speak. Sure enough, she looked up at him and said 'I received a letter from Minerva McGonagall today, Vernon.'  
The effect of such innocent words was quite surprising. Vernon's face contorted to resemble a confused or perhaps distressed rhinoceros, as he struggled to maintain a calm exterior. Eventually, he managed to splutter, 'What… did… did it… say?'  
Petunia explained to him the contents of the letter in brief; how the wizarding world would monitor their nephew, about his importance to them, and how they would try not to interfere with family life. When she reached the part about honouring Lily's memory she sounded bitter and positively furious.  
'How **dare** she tell us how to behave, Vernon!? After leaving him on our doorstep like that!' Her voice had become steadily shriller again, and Dudley's movements in the corner had become louder. Calmly, she stood up and straightened her apron, before striding over to the pram, speaking softly to her son.  
'Are you awake, my Dinky-Diddums? Are you hungry? Aren't you the most adorable little boy in the whole world…?' She groaned slightly with the effort of lifting her colossally large son, before learning him against her, bobbing him up and down.  
She continued to speak in a soft voice, but to Vernon, who had remained silent since his previous outburst. 'I suppose I'll survive, it's just that I'm so tired of being me…' She returned Dudley to his pram and pulled the blankets neatly around him. Turning to face her husband she was a little surprised to see him directly behind her.  
'Do you remember your last reunion?' She looked up into his face as he brushed her hair behind her ears and continued. 'You were just as worried that time, I can still remember you exact words-'  
'-"I don't want to go back; I'll never be good enough for them…"-'  
'-"I've always been unwanted and I just want them to like me."' Petunia was staring at the floor trying not to let the lump rise to the back of her throat, when Vernon added softly, 'You told me about what they said to you, the things they-'  
'They told me that I was a waste of skin,' Petunia spat out angrily. She couldn't hold back the tears any more, as her throat cracked and squeaked. 'I didn't want to go back because I'm not cool or pretty or anything that they are. I'm just a nobody, I-'  
'I think that you are the most amazing woman that I have ever met in my entire life,' said Vernon quietly, lifting her chin so that she was forced to look away from her slippers, that had been so interesting to her. Her eyes shone wet with tears and her lower lip was trembling. She would not tell him about Lily. Or James. This thought pushed the first tear properly out of her eyes, to journey down her cheek leaving a salty trail of regret and remorse behind it.  
'Hey,' Vernon used his thumb to gently clear her face from the fountain of tears and smiled. 'You are a fantastic wife to me, a brilliant mother to Dudley, and,' he added as an after thought, 'wonderful with Harry.'   
Petunia felt her heart leap to her throat with these words. How could he have found out? She felt so deceptive and unfair to him. She swallowed what felt like her entire digestive system in the back of her throat and let Vernon continue.  
'… You welcomed him into your home when hundreds wouldn't have. What a noble thing to do!'  
'Good,' thought Petunia, feeling relieved. 'He doesn't know how much I really care for Harry.' She still felt fallacious, and very guilty, but at least safe in her secret.  
'Petunia, sweetheart?' Vernon brought her back to reality, looking searchingly into her eyes. She smiled in response and he kissed her on the end of the nose. She felt herself genuinely smile as he chuckled, 'Besides, the only way you won't look good is if you mask the real wonderful you, for a superficial person like they do. Let them know the Petunia I know.' He hugged her before checking his watch and gasping, 'Crikey Petunia! I'm supposed to be meeting Mr Nelson for a round of golf!' He kissed her swiftly on the cheek and motioned to Dudley, 'Take care of my little man, eh?'  
He swooped on his golf clubs by the fireplace and was just closing the door when he turned and questioned, 'Are you going to be alright, sugar?'  
She nodded and smiled adding, 'Have a nice time darling, but don't be late – its pork chops tonight!'  
'My favourite!' he grinned, lifting his hand in farewell and pulling the door shut behind him.  
Left alone with her thoughts, Petunia settled on the sofa with her head in her hands. 'The real me…' she moaned, shaking her head slowly. 'I can't live like this any more, I don't know who I am.' Looking up, she registered the letter still on the table and stared at it for a while. Sitting forward, she found notepaper of her own and her favourite fountain pen. She knew how to sort her mind out; she was going to write to Dumbledore.

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Thanks for the reviews I've got, much appreciated! I'll keep writing with more reviews, so please, let me know what you think!

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own very much of this. All the characters and stuff are owned by J.K.Rowling, I just put my own spin on everything.


	6. All in the mind

_Dear Mr Dumbledore,  
I am writing to you because I feel that you will best comprehend this situation. I have recently been concerned with the tragic incident involving my sister, despite promising myself that I would not dwell on it._

Petunia read back what she had already written and shook her head. This would never do – writing to a man she barely knew, and then letting him into her life? More importantly, she knew that she would be letting him into her history. 

* * *

The front door slammed, causing Petunia to jump in surprise. The voices of her mother and sister floated up the stair through the open door.  
'Hello dear! Have you had a good day? How are Amelia, and Samuel, and your other friends?'  
'Who cares!?' Lily stomped up the stairs fuming, and muttering to herself angrily. Storming into the bedroom, she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her sister calmly reading on the edge of her bed.  
Petunia looked up at her, then without a word looked back to the book, turning a page as she did so. Lily threw her bag onto her bed, and sat down at the dressing table, brushing her already perfect hair. She was watching Petunia in the mirror wordlessly, occasionally eating a chocolate from the box next to her.  
Lily sighed impatiently and strode over to the wardrobe where she began throwing clothes onto her bed. Petunia looked up as clothes flew past her nose. 'Do you have to do that now?'  
Lily turned on her furiously. 'Don't you have anything better to do than watch me?'  
'I was reading actually, but it's become… somewhat loud in here, strangely.'  
'Oh shut up and get a life.'  
'I'll get a life as soon as you prove to me it's better than what I've got now.'  
Lily laughed cruelly. 'Pre-learning your comebacks now? Is that what your reading – 'Arguing for idiots'?'  
Petunia held up the book to show the cover to her sister. 'No, it appears not. As you can see this is 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'.'  
'You're reading school books in the holidays? You loser!'  
'It's not a school book, it's a piece of 16th Century literature, which I chose to read. Besides, you read all of your school books in the holidays too.' Petunia returned her interest to Shakespeare, but she could feel Lily's gaze burning into her. She turned the page, and clothes started to fly about the room once more.  
Lily's muffled voice came out of the wardrobe as a green jumper hit the floor, missing the bed. 'I can't believe you waste your time hanging around at home all summer, living out of books!' She retreated back into the room holding a pair of jeans before continuing, 'But of course you don't have any friends to see anyway…'  
She looked at the jeans, and then threw them onto the growing pile on the bed, now rummaging in a huge chest of drawers. Petunia turned another page of her book, paying no attention to Lily.  
Her older sister continued to talk, now warming to one of her favourite subjects. 'You're so brainless sometimes, I can't believe we're immersed in the same gene pool, you know that?'  
Petunia put her book in her lap and looked at Lily, who was observing her over a green t-shirt she was holding. 'Does it make you feel any better, putting me down all the time?' She tried to sound confident and pitying, but suspected that she sounded rather pathetic.  
'Oh don't give me that, Petunia! I mean, look at you! Why would anyone bother with that!?' Petunia went back to staring at her book and ignoring her sister, but her eyes were no longer taking in the words on the page. 'You're nothing, and you know it!'  
'That's no true,' replied Petunia steadily, her jaw set firmly. She was determined not to cry.  
Lily laughed heartlessly, and maliciously retorted, 'You don't seriously believe that do you? Talk about disillusioned, Petunia! You are totally worthless! You'll never amount to anything in your whole life!'  
Petunia knew that her sister was just picking at her insecurities, her paranoia. Unfortunately, it was working. Both of the girls knew that it was. Lily was metaphorically circling her prey, looking for the right sport, waiting for the right moment to deliver the fatal blow.  
Petunia felt herself tense as Lily opened her mouth, her poisoned tongue set to destroy her own flesh and blood. 'Poor Petunia… never good enough for anything. Such a shame that you aren't learning magic; you can't even defend yourself, can you?'  
Petunia looked up from the book in her lap, towards her sister who was turning her wand over in the hands thoughtfully; salt in the proverbial wound. 'Shut up Lily, you're not allowed to use it outside that freak school anyway.'  
'Are you so sure about that, little sister?' Lily's eyes flashed dangerously, as she walked back and forth across her sister's eye line. Petunia felt fear actually rise within her. She looked down again, but Lily had already sensed how threatened she felt. 'Well now, you **aren't** sure are you?' She paused, walking closer and leaning in to her sister's face. 'Luckily for you, dear sister, this year I **am** banned from using magic in the holidays.' Petunia failed to disguised her relief, as Lily went on, 'It's only small relief, Petunia. Next year I can take my Apparation exam and use magic at home. I'll be of a responsible age, you know.' She stood up again laughing.  
Petunia experienced a wave of hatred flowing through her, and she stood up too, vaguely aware of her book sliding off her lap and landing on the bedroom carpet with a dull thud. 'Look you,' she growled, her voice shaking in anger, 'You may have been born first and got into that freak school, but that doesn't give you the right to push me around. OK, I don't do magic and all that hocus pocus you do, for nine months every year! I do normal qualifications which will get me a normal job. I'm bloody good at what I do, so don't tell me I'm worthless!'  
Before Lily could react, Petunia pushed past her into the hallway and entered the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She turned the key in the lock and sat down on the edge of the bath with a sigh. She hated the arguments. She had watched her friends at school with their siblings, and they seemed to get along at least some of the time. It seemed to her that she and Lily's moments of truce were rare, and getting much less frequent as well.  
She stood up and stared at her reflection in the cabinet mirror over the sink. She jumped as a noise like a whip crack reverberated from the hallway behind her. Holding onto the sink for support with one hand, and her chest with the other, she listened for more noise.  
Just as she was deciding it must be next door's car backfiring again, she heard the distinct low murmur of voices in her room; a man was talking to her sister.  
'I'm going mad,' she told herself as she noisily ran a bath; covering the noise of another bang outside the door. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that day, Petunia lay back in the steaming hot water and closed her eyes. 'That magic will be the death of her,' she concluded as the burning steam enveloped her; and she thought of her sister no more.

* * *

Her childhood with Lily was a complicated and unhappy one. Re-reading her letter again, Petunia decided that letting people into her world was probably a bad idea. Besides, she had no idea how to contact this man!  
She looked at the grand fireplace next to her. She was glad that Vernon had not yet bought an electric one, as there was nothing quite like watching the flames eat at one another, into non-existence.  
She looked away and scrunched up her letter into a little ball, aiming it in the general direction of the fireplace. She was shocked to hear a man's voice exclaim 'Ouch!', and for the paper to bounce back onto the carpet.  
Looking at the fire, she let out a startled shriek as a man stepped over the grate, brushing ash off the black travelling cloak around his shoulders. He was a prominent figure; tall and magnificent, but he appeared quite old and wise as well. A long grey beard lay across his chest, and his equally long hair was a mixture of grey and white, catching the light of the dancing fire.  
He stooped to the floor and picked up the paper at his feet. Smoothing it out, he surveyed the writing through half-moon glasses, which were balanced precariously on his long crooked nose.  
He looked up at Petunia who was sitting bolt upright, still in shock that a man appeared to have walked out of her fireplace. 'Allow me to introduce myself, Mrs Dursley,' he said. 'My name is Albus Dumbledore.'

* * *

Hello, my adoring fans! hee hee Yes, I've updated again - our first flashback! I'm not too sure about it, because I don't think this is the best I've ever written, but I've posted it because hopefully it will keep th story going. Constructive criticism is VERY welcome, so please R&R!

DISCLAIMER: I don't really own anything here, J.K.Rowling invented Harry Potter stuff, I'm just fiddling with it and looking at Petunia's POV.


	7. The Wizard and the Muggle

Petunia Dursley stood completely motionless in front of the sofa she had leapt from moments before. Her mouth was still frozen open into an almost perfect circle. She closed, then opened, then closed her mouth again, as she tried to form words in her confused mind. Weakly, she sank back onto the sofa, though sat rigidly, not taking her eyes off the man in front of her.

'I'm sorry to surprise you, madam,' Dumbledore started, taking a slight step forward. 'I thought that maybe revealing myself to you in person would be kinder than owl post…' He looked at the timid woman in front of him, who was still speechless. 'Perhaps ringing the doorbell would have been better,' he mused. 'Even the most wise of people can make the most thoughtless mistakes,' he added, smiling at Petunia.

She seemed to gather her senses and finally blurted out, 'You're Dumbus Albuldore?' There was a short silence, before Petunia realised what she had just said. She shook her head and corrected herself, 'I mean, Albus Dumbledore…'

He smiled at her again as she went crimson and averted her gaze. 'Yes, I am Professor Albus Dumbledore from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' Petunia's eyes grew wide, and she looked at him like a deer caught in headlights.

'Ho-' she whispered hoarsely.

'Of course, Petunia – you don't mind me calling you Petunia?' She shook her head absently-mindedly and he took it as consent to continue. 'Indeed, I teach at the school. I am sure that you are aware that we aren't just a band of magical persons, defending the innocent from evil!' He chuckled at this notion, failing to notice her blank gaze, though he saw her stare once more at her knuckles, embarrassed by her ignorance.

As if reading her mind, Dumbledore grinned apologetically. 'I do not believe you to be foolish; thought perhaps uninformed or a little stunned by my somewhat… extravagant entrance.'

She looked up and saw a mischievous expression glance across the old man's face. 'I… You…' Petunia struggled to gather her nerve and vocabulary. 'Why have you come here?'

He pondered the question for a moment as Petunia watched him carefully. He seemed to be having difficulty forming sentences as well now. 'To see you,' he said shortly.

'Me? Are you sure that you aren't here to check on Harry?' Petunia asked slyly, raising one eyebrow in disbelief.

Again, Dumbledore paused, and eventually sheepishly replied, 'I am apparently more transparent than I imagined. Conceivably you have proved your higher intellect. I admit I am here to see Harry.' He beamed at her once more, though this went unnoticed.

Petunia felt herself bitterly remembering words of her sister from their childhood. 'No letter Petunia?' she had laughed in the summer after Petunia's 12th birthday. 'You clearly aren't clever enough for the teachers of Hogwarts!'

Snapping out of her recollections, Petunia looked up to see Dumbledore surveying her fairly strangely. 'Oh, I'm sorry! Harry's just sleeping upstairs, Professor!' Petunia rose and led the way out into the hallway. 'Can I get you anything?' Petunia offered, having remembered her manners as she made for the stairs. Dumbledore declined, so they ascended in silence, turning to a door on the right at the top of the staircase. Petunia laboriously pushed the handle down quietly, and pushed the door opened, the wood ruffling the carpet beneath.

The two of them crept across the darkened room towards a small cot in the corner. Peering inside, they could see the toddler snoozing peacefully, one hand on his stomach and the other next to his head. His jet black hair was already fairly long, yet not quite covering the scar clearly visible on his little forehead.

They stood in silence for a while watching him sleep, before Dumbledore offered, 'He looks a lot like James did at that age. I see you are caring for him as I expected.'

Petunia looked at him questioningly and opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore interrupted, 'I'm afraid I will be needed back at the school, my dear, so I had better be off.'

Petunia followed him into the hallway and closed the door behind her. The wizard stood facing her, smoothing his robes and buttoning his travelling cloak tighter around him.

'Do you need-?'

'The fireplace? Good gracious no, I've seen enough of that for now! I plan to Apparate thank you; it's far more pleasant I assure you!' He chuckled and held out his hand to shake, giving her a little nod as he did so. 'It's fairly cold where I'm going, sadly,' he explained, gesturing to his cloaked and booted self. 'Well, I'd best be off. I'll send you letters by owl in the future, to warn you if I'm popping by! Good bye, Petunia dear.' With that he stepped back and disappeared with an almighty 'crack!'

Petunia stood alone in the corridor for a few seconds, staring at the place a man had been moments before. Shaking her head, she started to return down the stairs to make a start on dinner, her mind buzzing with confusing new questions. It was only as she passed the living room that she became aware that Dumbledore had not left behind the letter she had tried to destroy.

* * *

Hey reviewers! (hint hint) Back again, I just got to update cos theres lots of exciting stuff to come! Though annoyingly much of it is going to be re-written; I'm going to have to accept that my disk is forever ruined. sigh.... oh well. Please note that I'm aware you can't apparate in Hogwarts, Dumbledore isn't necessarily telling the truth! I'll come back to it (she says, hoping that she will remember... lol)

DISCLAIMER: J.K.Rowling owns these characters, I'm just putting my own spin on it, let me know what you reckon :) 


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